


New Year, Old Friends

by Elizabeth Tudor (Liz_Tudor)



Category: Lupin III
Genre: EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, F/M, Friendship, Fujiko's mad, Gen, Goemon just wants them to stop yelling, Harassment, Heist gone wrong, Humor, Implied/teased LoopZoop, It mostly works out, Jigen can't catch a break, M/M, Miss Marie returns, celebrating the new year, some sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz_Tudor/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Tudor
Summary: Lupin and his gang are the best thieves and assassins the world has ever seen, a precision team capable of dismantling any security system or walking off with the most closely guarded treasure....most of the time, anyway. When they fail, they failspectacularly.





	New Year, Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a soundtrack for this one, may I recommend ZZ Top's 'Sharp Dressed Man'? Poor Jigen.

"Did I by chance do anything last night that suggested I was sane?"

~Terry Pratchett, _Going Postal_

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Jigen finished adjusting the tie, and stepped back to check the effect in the mirror. He had to admit, he wasn't too unhappy with his attire for this job. A well-tailored tuxedo, sleek and ink-dark, with a few extra gadgets tucked into hidden pockets or secreted inside cufflinks. Not quite as comfortable and versatile as his usual suits, but not bad either. Tuxedos always made him feel a bit like he'd stepped out of a secret agent movie, and although he wouldn't have admitted it at Zantetsuken-point, he enjoyed the feeling. It was...kind of nice, as an occasional break from the grime and moral ambiguity of real life.

 

"Could you assist me with the cufflinks, please? I'm a little nervous of them."

 

Goemon's voice broke him out of his reverie.

 

"Yeah, here..."

 

As much as he might sniff about being pried out of his usual hakama, Goemon didn't look half bad in a tux either. They were only lightly disguised tonight, so a few silver streaks painted in at his temples and a little stage makeup to alter the planes of his face were most of what the samurai needed to modify his appearance.

 

Their target was the Tear of Jofuku, a grapefruit-sized blue pearl that was being displayed as part of the New Year's gala for a convention of top-notch jewelers and diamond-mining conglomerates. This one was kind of last minute; they'd only heard that the pearl would be on display the day before, and since there hadn't been time to send an advance notice to the police, they didn't have to disguise themselves too much to escape notice. Jigen was making do with a pair of rectangular-framed glasses and a few slips of latex to make him look clean-shaven; with his hair pulled back into a ponytail and dyed a couple of shades lighter, that should be plenty to avoid casual identification.

 

"Got it," he said, cautiously slipping the second gaudy cufflink into place and thumbing it closed. "Just be careful not to press it too hard unless you need to."

 

"Thank you."

 

"No problem," the gunman replied, then squinted at him. "Did Fujiko already do your makeup?"

 

"Yes," Goemon told him, a faintly puzzled line creasing his forehead. "Why?"

 

"You look kinda pale," Jigen muttered, scrutinizing him. "You feel all right?"

 

"I am _fine_."

 

"Okay then," Jigen allowed, doubtful, and went to find the rest of the gang.

 

Lupin, of course, was already in costume and busy fiddling with some new gadget or toy he'd cooked up for the occasion. He was passing as a woman for this job, and Jigen couldn't see much of him beyond the long wavy wig as he bent over the blueprint-strewn tabletop.

 

"You almost ready? We leave in half an hour."

 

His partner flashed him a quick smile and a thumbs up, brain clearly still on the circuits and wiring he was pliers-deep in, and Jigen nodded in satisfaction and lit a cigarette. The plan was for him to escort Lupin, and for Fujiko and Goemon to follow a few minutes later. Once at the party, they would scatter and mingle until it was time for the next phase of the heist.

 

That was the plan, anyway. One glance at Fujiko as she emerged from the bathroom, adjusting her opera gloves, and he knew they were going to run into a snag.

 

Next to him, Lupin glanced up, ready to compliment her in the hopes of sneaking a kiss or copping a feel, and froze. Jigen fought back a deranged laugh. They clearly hadn't talked about this beforehand. Both them were in knee-length, glittery blue cocktail dresses, with red hair down to their hips.

 

"Well, one of us is going to have to change," Fujiko glared.

 

This was going to be very entertaining.

 

******************************

 

Ten minutes and Jigen's third cigarette later, neither of them showed any sign of budging.

 

"This is designer! You're wearing a cheap knockoff, you can change more easily than I can!"

 

"I don't have any other dresses," Lupin protested, "I just brought the one!"

 

"Well then go as a man!"

 

"I can't, the plan calls for me to be female! _You_ go as a man, you just have to make it into the security booth, you can do that as a guy! You're going to be climbing around in the vents, it'd be easier to do that if you're not in a dress!"

 

"I didn't bring a sports bra or a binder, and I won't fit into any of your suit coats without one! And do you have any idea how many stupidly rich, lonely old men and women are going to be there? It's the perfect opportunity to pick out my next mark, I'm not wasting it wearing one of your cheap jackets!"

 

"Let me borrow one of _your_ dresses then, and _I'll_ change!"

 

"No! Every time you borrow my clothes, you bring them back ripped, stretched to hell, or not at all!"

 

"I have not lost _that_ many of your dresses!"

 

"Sixteen. In the last year."

 

"Wait...seriously?"

 

******************************

 

"You are such a pushover," Jigen snorted as they walked down the block, Lupin on his arm.

 

"Well, it finally got us out the door," his partner groaned, snuggling more firmly into the faux mink coat he was wearing. The London air was only a few degrees below freezing, but the wind running icy fingers along his exposed legs and neck was enough to make him shiver.

 

"Your entire share, though? Really? When you know she's just gonna make an excuse to take it anyway."

 

"Only if I lose the dress!" Lupin protested, stepping around a puddle of slush. The purse that bumped against his hip could have fit a moderately-sized pony. "I'll just have to be careful with this one."

 

" _Sure_ ," Jigen scoffed, but thankfully dropped it as they came up on the hotel. The elaborately carved facade glittered with icicles, both real and artificial, and the interior sparkled with red velvet, hothouse palms in golden pots, crystal every which way, enough gilded urns and statuary to give King Midas traumatic flashbacks, and a horde of expensively dressed people glittering with gems encrusted into every conceivable type of jewelry or body ornament. Jigen had to stop himself from licking his lips in anticipation. The hunt was on.

 

"Mr. and Mrs. Ladrão," Lupin giggled throatily, drawing Jigen up to the burly doorman at the entrance to the ballroom. His scowl didn't drop an iota as he checked the guest list in his hand, then waved them through.

 

The ballroom, if anything, was even more ostentatious...though since it included a bar, Jigen wasn't too much inclined to argue.

 

"See you in a couple hours, pearl in hand," Lupin purred, eyes already fixed on the cut-crystal statue holding out the nacreous, sky-colored globe. The web of invisible sensors and lasers surrounding it would hold him at bay for now, but oh not forever, and by the end of the night the Tear would be _his_.

 

"See you on the other side," Jigen grinned, and went to get himself a glass of scotch.

 

 _Not a bad vantage point,_ Jigen decided, leaning against the bar. From this corner of the room, he could keep an eye on everything without attracting too much attention to himself. No one ever paid too much attention to the one nondescript guy hanging around the bar, keeping to himself. _Well, almost no one,_ he corrected, irritated, as the group of astoundingly young-looking women sipping violently colored cocktails at the other end of the bar glanced over at him yet again, giggling. _Are they interns or something? Or someone's kids that Daddy is hoping will take over the business?_ Never mind. As long as they stayed over _there_ , he reminded himself, watching Goemon slip out of the room, he wouldn't have to worry about it. As long as they didn't get in the way of the real goal here.

 

His luck held for the next forty minutes as he tracked the comings and goings of the security detail and watched Lupin, and later Fujiko, circle the room, Lupin looking for the master of ceremonies, Fujiko for her next rich target. Finally, as he was beginning to get impatient, Goemon stepped lightly back into the ballroom, the Zantetsuken disguised as a walking stick, and nodded faintly, covering the motion by coughing into his hand. Fujiko caught his eye and slipped out, and Jigen smiled behind his glass of scotch. Excellent. The diversion was in place, he just had to wait for the cameras to cut out, and stand by to waylay the head of security before they cut in again.

 

Across the room, he could see Lupin trying, unsuccessfully, to extricate himself from an increasingly drunk and over-attentive...well, he assumed it had to be a man, but it more closely resembled a balding pink gorilla stuffed into a suit. Either way, he was not taking no for an answer, no matter how many times Lupin tried to politely back away.

 

If he kept that up much longer, Lupin would lose his target, and they'd have to adjust the plan on the fly.

 

Jigen debated stepping in to help, until a faint beep from the monitor disguised as a wristwatch told him that it was time for him to get moving too. Exactly fifteen minutes, and he had to have the head of security stunned, restrained, and safely out of the way, and the radiator in the maintenance tunnels turned off.

 

And normally, that would be plenty of time, except that the woman who'd been eyeing him hopefully chose exactly that moment to go stumbling into him _completely_ by accident.

 

"Oh, sorry," she tittered, putting both of her hands on his chest in a way that he did not appreciate at all. "Thanks for catching me!"

 

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, pulling away, but she caught the lapel of his jacket.

 

"Wait! I need to thank you properly for your help," she purred. "What's your name?"

 

"Unimportant," he growled...but she refused to let go.

 

"If you say so, but why don't we go back to my room, and I..."

 

"No."

 

"Okay, your room then, and we..."

 

" _No._ "

 

...she apparently did not handle rejection well.

 

"Are you serious? Do you know who I am?" she demanded, fisting her hands on her hips, close enough for him to smell the sugary syrup on her breath. _At least she'd finally let go of his fucking jacket._

 

"No, and I don't care, I'm running late..." Jigen snapped, trying to step around her, but she stepped in closer, effectively pinning him against the bar. This close, her eyes were hugely dilated, and it was clear that she was over the edge of tipsy into 'poor decision-making' drunk.

 

"Look, you jerk, when a lady is nice enough to show some interest in you, the polite thing to do is..."

 

He stopped listening, sizing her up, wondering how to extricate himself without causing too much more of a scene. Diamonds dripped from her neck, her ears, her wrists, the coming-undone upsweep of honey-colored hair, enough diamonds that if she'd suddenly appeared in his old neighborhood in New York, there'd have been a pitched battle over who got to be the first to mug her. She was _young,_ barely into her twenties, barely old enough to drink, pouting full lips and huge, watery Bambi eyes at him. Lupin would've had her eating out his hand by this point. But he wasn't Lupin, and if she had been sprouting fur and covered in brown slime, he could not have been less interested than he was right now.

 

"...are you listening to me?!"

 

"No."

 

What the fuck was it about him that screamed 'dangerous but not too dangerous, please hit on me'? This had been a problem when he was a bodyguard too, had led to some similarly ugly scenes with clients' teenage daughters or barely older mistresses. No one ever seemed to take the hint, or the flatly delivered statement, that he just wasn't interested.

 

"You douchebag!" she snapped, shoving him with both hands. The force was barely enough to make him stumble, but this was getting bad, and he was running out of time.

 

"Hey, Miss," the bartender frowned, leaning over the counter, "there's no call for that..."

 

"Don't tell me what to do!" she screamed, grabbing his jacket with both hands and clinging like a tick. "Do you even know who I am?!"

 

_Time to go. **Now.** Five fucking minutes ago._ Maybe it was time to use the cufflinks. 

 

As he fought his way free though, he saw a blue-uniformed guard making a beeline for them, drawn to the shouting like a moth to a candle or Fujiko to treasure.

 

_Fuck. If she collapses or I try to run now, I'm probably gonna get tackled._

"Is there a problem here?" the guard asked warily, his hand on his walkie-talkie.

 

"Yes!" she shrieked, starting to cry in big, messy gulps. "This man keeps harassing me!"

 

"Wha- no! She won't leave me alone!"

 

"Sir," the rent-a-cop growled, "I'm going to have to ask you to follow me."

 

"He's telling the truth," the bartender cut in, leaning over the polished wood counter. "She's been bothering him, not the other way around."

 

"Tha-that's not true!" the girl howled, mascara running down her cheeks. "He won't leave me alone, he's threatening me!"

 

"Let me call my supervisor," the guard sighed, and Jigen's frustration mounted as he waved over the head of security, who he was supposed to have been knocking out and tying up right about now. _Good fucking luck getting him out of the way now. Way to go._

 

"What's the problem here?" the guard asked, and his underling indicated the girl, sobbing hysterically, and Jigen almost shaking with frustration.

 

"Well sir, she claims he's harassing her, but _he_ claims that _she_ keeps harassing him..."

 

"She's definitely harassing him," the bartender put in dryly.

 

"...and I'm not sure what to do, sir," the younger guard finished lamely.

 

"You need to arrest him!" the young woman yelled. "He tried to molest me!"

 

"I definitely didn't," Jigen sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm ridiculously late to...meet my friends, and this girl won't let me leave."

 

"I'd like to talk to both of you, and get your version of events," the head of security said firmly. "Miss, if you'd mind stepping over here."

 

From what Jigen could hear of her statement, between the hiccupping sobs and hysterical shouting, she was alternately claiming that he'd tried to kidnap her, grope her, or steal her purse. Biting back a groan, he checked his watch. Eleven of his fifteen minutes had evaporated, and the man he was supposed to be tying up was taking a statement from the girl who was now claiming he wanted to blackmail her to get to her father. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what kind of hot water had he gotten himself into?

 

Hot water...hot...the radiator...

 

 _Oh, shit._ Forget the head of security, he had to warn Fujiko that the radiator was still on!

 

Pulling out his cell phone, he thumbed open the messenger app, only for the girl to snatch the phone out of his hand.

 

"HEY!"

 

"Oh, I'm not good enough?" she sneered, her words starting to slur as she swayed on her feet. "You're already texting some other skank?"

 

"Okay, I've seen enough," the head of security groaned. "Miss, if you could come with me..."

 

"You can't make me," she snapped, rounding on him. "Do you know who I am?!"

 

"Miss, I think you've had a little too much to drink tonight."

 

"Gimme my phone back," Jigen insisted, trying to grab it out of her hands. "I have to tell my friend..."

 

"Go fucking get it," she hissed, throwing it across the room, and then started screaming again when one of the guards grabbed her wrists. Jigen lunged for the phone, frantic, but one of the other guards grabbed his shoulder.

 

"Please stay here, sir," he said firmly. "I'll go get it, but I can't let you leave just yet."

 

Fighting the urge to hit a nerve cluster and go leaping after the phone over the guard's spasming body, Jigen checked his watch. One minute left. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..._

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin go tearing past so fast that Jigen was surprised he didn't twist an ankle in those stilettos, scanning the room desperately and muttering obscenities in Japanese. Jigen's wrist beeped, warning him that the security cameras were back online, and the girl's screaming inched into a progressively more painful register as even more guards hurried over. A vein just above his eye started throbbing painfully.

 

_This plan has just officially gone to hell._

As the guard getting his phone got waylaid, explaining the situation to the new arrivals, he caught sight of Fujiko storming up to him, looking faintly singed and as angry as a wet mountain lion.

 

_Aaaaaand it just got worse._

 

"Care to explain," she hissed, in a voice venomous enough to have done credit to a scorpion, "what was more important than this job?" Her eyes fell on the screaming girl being gingerly manhandled out of the room."Were you too busy _flirting_?!"

 

"Wha- No! She kept harassing me, she accused me of trying to grope her, and the guards showed up..."

 

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" the first guard asked cautiously, handing Jigen's phone back. _Too little, too late._ "Do you need..."

 

"I do not need your help, he's just an idiot," Fujiko snapped, not taking her eyes off Jigen. "Whatever she's accusing him off, he didn't do, unless it was just generally being rude and obnoxious. I know him and I'm angry with him for a very different reason than whatever that shrieking little bimbo is upset about, so _go deal with her before I do_."

 

His eyes drifted from the spitting-mad Fujiko to Jigen, exasperated, the phone held loosely in his hand.

 

"...You're the friend he was trying to text?"

 

"Probably," she snapped. "Not that it'll help him much."

 

"Oh..kay then," the guard muttered, happy to have an excuse to back away. "I'll leave you two to it."

 

"Fujiko," Goemon murmured, hurrying up, "Are you all..."

 

"No, I am not all right," Fujiko snarled. "Apparently doing his job is too tall an order for Mr. Doesn't Give a Fuck About Women, and he couldn't be bothered to warn me that I was walking straight into an oven!" Lupin, she expected to lose his brain and his pants around every doe-eyed little barely legal pair of tits, but Jigen at least was supposed to be reliable, dammit.

 

"I was trying, she threw my phone!" Yes, he knew _exactly_ how stupid that sounded.

 

"And the big bad mafia hitman couldn't handle one crying little drunk girl?" Fujiko sneered.

 

As the fight roared on, the only mercy was that the two of them had switched into Japanese, Goemon thought helplessly. They had given up any pretence of keeping their voices down, and if their cover hadn't been destroyed when the security guards showed up, it certainly had been now.

 

"For the love of gold, just deal with it next time! You're a fucking professional!"

 

"How is this my fault, that she wouldn't leave me alone?!" Jigen roared. "It's not like I started this, you know damn well I'm not straight!"

 

"You're not completely gay either, so don't give me that shit as an excuse!" Fujiko snapped. "You couldn't just pity-fuck her or something to shut her up?!"

 

"In fifteen minutes?! And still have time to make sure you don't get fried? Which is beside the point anyway!"

 

"Okay, so you didn't have to screw her, why couldn't you have just played along?" Fujiko demanded. "Or have done _literally_ anything except get into a screaming match with her!"

 

"Oh, like _right now with you_ , you mean?"

 

"Yes! Do _anything_ else! Go back to her room with her and just knock her out or something!"

 

"Because I didn't fucking want to!" He may not have a high opinion of women in general, but he still liked to think of himself as something of an old-fashioned gentleman, and clubbing a much younger and very drunk woman over the head decidedly did not fit the bill, no matter how obnoxious she was being. By the time she'd gotten bad enough for him to consider it, the guards had already starting flocking, and it was no longer an option.

 

"God, you are such a pain in the ass!"

 

Jigen opened his mouth to retort, and they might have kept it up all night if Goemon hadn't suddenly dashed past them, a hand clamped over his mouth and his face a startling shade of seafoam green.

 

Fujiko and Jigen glanced at each other, then went running after him.

 

They found him bent over a garbage can several hallways away, shivering, while Lupin hovered anxiously.

 

"Goe," Jigen asked, worry creasing his forehead, "what's wrong?"

 

"Upset stomach," Goemon muttered. "Feel like I'm gonna throw up again."

 

And given Goemon's habit of understating any problem, Fujiko thought exasperatedly, 'upset stomach' could be anything, ranging from anxiety up through flu, food poisoning, and imminent Ebola. Catching Jigen's eye, she knew he was having the same thought, and her towering rage softened slightly.

 

"I'll get some tea."

 

"I'll go get ginger ale."

 

Leaving Lupin to keep an eye on their indisposed swordsman, Jigen and Fujiko hurried off towards the bar and the kitchens.

 

"This one's on the house, mate," the bartender told him as Jigen came into view. "Sorry about her, I didn't realize just how much she'd had until she was already screaming her bloody head off. Scotch, right?"

 

"Just a bottle of ginger ale or 7-Up or something," Jigen told her. "One of my friends isn't feelin' well."

 

"Hell of a way to spend New Year's Eve," the bartender told him sympathetically, passing him a can of the soda. "First that crazy girl, now this. Sorry, mate."

 

Jigen was about to tell her not to worry about it when someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Acting on reflex, he twisted away, bending their wrist until they had to let him go or risk it breaking.

 

"Lilah told me what you did to her," his attacker snarled, rubbing his wrist. "You're going to regret treating her like that, you scumbag!"

 

"Oh come on!" he heard the bartender shouting behind him, but Jigen was already ducking a clumsy swing, planning his next move. He wouldn't argue the scumbag classification, but he was not _that_ kind of scumbag, and he just wanted this whole fucking mess over so that he could go back and check on his friends. As satisfying as it would be to punch the would-be white knight in the face, Jigen had attracted way too much attention already tonight...

 

"Hey, calm down," he protested, twisting the cuff of his dress shirt and thumbing the oversized cufflink. "Dave, buddy..."

 

"My name isn't..." the man started, and then the several million volts from the miniature tazer Jigen had pressed against his wrist kicked in, and he slumped against the gunman, his expression of rage falling into slack befuddlement.

 

"Jesus, buddy, how much did you drink?" Jigen groaned, loudly, and the couple of people who'd been glancing sideways at them, on edge, relaxed and rolled their eyes, went back to their drinks and their conversations. "Let's get you back to your room, mate." Out of the corner of his eye, the bartender tipped him a wink, smirking broadly, before busying herself wiping down the counter.

 

A minute later, Jigen had deposited him behind a large potted palm in the lobby, retrieved the can of ginger ale, and was flipping through the wallet he'd palmed. A hundred pounds or so in cash, a few nice shiny credit cards, and the guy's room card, still in the miniature paper folder, his room number written on it in blue pen...and under it, a four-digit number, written in a different hand. _Hell-o._

 

Shoving the wallet into his pocket, he turned the corner and met Lupin coming the other way, limping a little in his heels and looking distinctly forlorn.

 

"I'm calling it," the thief groaned. "The pearl isn't worth this amount of shit. Goemon's sick, you and Fujiko are fighting like roosters in a cage, our cover's pretty much blown, I had a rich idiot almost pass out on top of me and I lost my target, this underwear is riding up my ass, and my wig itches. We still have enough left from the Kohinoor job to last us awhile, this just isn't worth the headache."

 

"You sure you wanna call it quite so soon?" Jigen smirked, holding up the folded slip with the key card in it. "Some asshole just tried to start a fight with me, and he was kind enough to leave me his room card _and_ the code to the safe. That might be worth making a play for, if he's here representing some diamond company or somethin'. It's not a legendary pearl, but we wouldn't be leaving empty-handed."

 

After a long moment, Lupin's face split into a grin.

 

"Y'know, I think I'll drink to that. Goemon says he's feeling a little better, what say I pick up a few bottles of champagne, you raid the safes, and we'll meet on the roof in twenty minutes to ring in the new year?"

 

"Twenty minutes?" Jigen asked, eyebrows quirked. "Shouldn't take me more than five, ten at most."

 

"My jerk wasn't kind enough to leave me his safe code though," Lupin smugged, handing him another labeled key card. "Hitting one, you might as well do both. Hang on." Steadying himself on Jigen's elbow, he reached down and popped a particularly garish bead off one of his shoes.

 

"Miniature shaped charge," he explained, handing it to the gunman. "Put it over the lock on the safe, tap it twice, pause, then do it again. As long as this hotel doesn't try anything too clever with their safes, it should damage it enough for you to pry it the rest of the way. Now," he giggled, tossing the locks of the long red wig over his shoulder and grinning like a demon, "I'll get the champagne, you get the ice?"

 

"Hell yeah," Jigen grinned. "Here, use this," and passed him the credit card he'd just pulled from the folds of the wallet. Looking a lot happier, Lupin accepted the card and the ginger ale, and they parted ways.

 

******************************

 

Not-Dave turned out to be smarter than Jigen had given him credit for, it turned out. After trying it three times, the gunman had to admit that the number wasn't the code for the safe after all. Dammit, and he only had the one explosive capsule, and it would take him much too long to open it by ear...

 

After a moment's thought, he sat back on his heels and picked up the slip of paper again. So it wasn't 3572...what about 4683?

 

2461 turned out to be the winning number, and Jigen allowed himself a smug smile as he emptied the contents of the safe into an expensive-looking black attaché case that he'd snagged off the desk. As an afterthought, he grabbed the comforter off the king-sized bed, and the room's couple of spare blankets from the cedar-scented closet. If he was going back to being an opportunistic petty thief, he might as well do it properly.

 

On to the next room.

 

******************************

 

His purse loaded down with as much champagne as he could carry, Lupin found Goemon sipping tea, looking considerably less miserable than he had a few minutes ago, Fujiko at his side. Both of them looked rather the worse for the wear, and when he suggested they cancel the heist and go watch the fireworks instead, Goemon hesitantly agreed, and Fujiko put up only a token resistance.

 

"If you're really going to just _give up_ , I suppose I can't stop you," she huffed, but Lupin knew her well enough to spot the relief in her expression.

 

"See you on the roof," he grinned, and she couldn't quite help returning it before heading to the bathroom.

 

She had just intended to clean the soot off her face, but when she made it to the lavatory, it was to the find the girl who'd been harassing Jigen puking into a large potted fern and being comforted by her only marginally less drunk friends.

 

"Good, s'not the guards," one of them sighed as Fujiko splashed some water on her face and began scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of grease. "Anyway, Li, maybe it was for the best, y'know..."

 

"He was a jerk anyway," one of them soothed, clutching a large statue of Boudicca to keep herself upright. "He didn't deserve you."

 

"But he was _hot_ ," she hiccupped disconsolately. "And that was so fucking embarrassing, why was he so _mean_ about it?"

 

Fujiko watched them in the mirror, eyes narrowed like a leopard stalking an unwary deer.

 

Jigen had screwed up tonight. That was undeniable, and she was angry about it. His lapse had put her in danger. In his defense though, she'd yet to see any man, including ones with far more practice at it than him, come up with a graceful way to handle a shrieking, crying woman. It was a tactic she used herself, in fact, when more subtle means failed and she needed to cause a scene. She couldn't completely blame him for reacting badly. He definitely could have handled that better...

 

...but the spoiled little brat also should **not** have been hassling him like that in the first place, and Fujiko did not especially like anyone besides her harassing _her_ guys. She had damn well earned that right by putting up with absolutely all of their bullshit and hangups and neuroses day in and day out; this entitled, weepy brat had not.

 

A bunch of exceptionally inebriated and distracted women covered in diamonds...ones she was inclined to dislike anyway...it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

 

******************************

 

It was a quarter past eleven by the by time Jigen made it up to the roof, loaded down with blankets and a black leather case stuffed with diamonds swinging from his hand.

 

"Oooh, good thinking," Lupin chirped, passing him a delicate crystal flute.

 

"Cheers," the gunman smirked, handing the blankets along to the rest of the gang. After they'd all huddled together on the roof and wrapped themselves in the down quilts, he had to admit, it was a pretty nice setup. From here, they had an excellent view straight over the river and down to Tower Hill and City Hall, where the fireworks would be going off. Lupin had half a dozen bottles of very, _very_ nice champagne and four crystal champagne flutes crammed into his oversized purse, and Fujiko had charmed a massive platter of pastries and hors d'oeuvres straight out of the hands of a slightly dazed-looking server. Good alcohol, good food, a good view, excellent company, and a million or two each in diamonds. It might not be the way they'd planned on celebrating tonight, but he really couldn't complain. _Not a bad way to ring in the new year,_ he thought, accepting the plate of meatballs and tiny sandwiches that Goemon passed him.

 

The samurai was looking better, he was pleased to see; still a little pale, and he was sipping the tea and ginger ale more than the champagne, but he seemed less shivery and unfocused than before.

 

"You feelin' all right, Goemon?" he asked, jostling him gently. The younger man looked up from where he'd been leaning against Fujiko's shoulder.

 

"Oh! Yes. I think it was the yakitori from earlier. My stomach was upset, but I'm feeling better now."

 

He knew he was blushing faintly. Dammit. And judging from the searching sideways look Jigen was giving him from under the brim of his hat ( _where had he been keeping that? Had it been folded up in a pocket or something?),_ the gunman knew, or could guess enough of it. He felt his cheeks sting from the cold as he blushed harder, and Jigen gave him a sideways smile and a wink.

 

He genuinely hadn't been feeling well, but he...may have played it up a little, in his desperation to get Fujiko and Jigen to stop fighting. Besides, how many people would refuse the prospect of Fujiko fussing and cuddling over them?

 

...that was no excuse. He was weak. He'd have to train harder and learn to do better, both as a swordsman and a person, if he was to feel that he belonged among them.

 

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly, his high cheekbones still tingeing pink. "Jigen brought the blankets and diamonds, Fujiko brought food, Lupin brought champagne...I've done nothing tonight but fall ill and make you take care of me."

 

"Uh...Goemon?" Lupin offered, his lips twitching. "Of the four of us, you're the only one who actually managed to pull off his part of the plan. Trust me, this did not fall apart 'cause of you."

 

"Speaking of, should we tell the hotel that their fire alarms and backup generators are out?" Jigen mused, eyes on the glittering skyline.

 

"Nah," Lupin smirked, "they'll figure it out when the smoke bombs in the kitchen go off at twelve-thirty. Well," he sighed cheerfully enough, pouring himself some more champagne, "we've had our bad days before. If we couldn't get the pearl, we still aren't leaving empty-handed, and this isn't a bad way to spend the evening. In fact, the only thing that could make this better is..."

 

"YOU!" bellowed an enraged voice from the direction of the stairwell.

 

"Pops!" Lupin exclaimed, genuinely delighted. "You're just in time, come join us!"

 

"I am not going to join you!" Zenigata snapped. "I'm here to arrest you!"

 

"How did you know where we were?" Jigen wondered aloud, eyeing him. "Lupin didn't announce this one..."

 

"Please," the inspector scoffed, "there's a soccer-ball-sized pearl in town, where else would you possibly be?"

 

"And let me guess, no one believed you because we didn't send an advance notice?" Lupin grinned. "Which is why you're here alone?"

 

"That's not...well, clearly I was right! You're after the Tear!"

 

"That _was_ the plan," Lupin shrugged, pouring a glass of champagne, "but everything kept going wrong, and Goemon was feeling sick, and it just wasn't any fun, so we decided to call it off. We really are just here to celebrate New Years this time, Pops," he added. "Seriously, come celebrate with us. Have some champagne, we even bought it this time." With a stolen credit card, but why split hairs?

 

"Gee, I wish I could take time off just because the job wasn't _fun_ ," Zenigata told him, sarcasm ringing in his voice like the clang of a brass bell.

 

"So why don't you?" Lupin asked, offering him the glass. "We aren't going anywhere until next year, why don't you join us?" He paused, glanced around. "Ah, damn, I only grabbed four champagne flutes..."

 

"I can drink out of the bottle," Jigen shrugged, leaning over to pass Lupin his glass. "Those bitty little glasses don't hold enough anyway."

 

"You're the best, Jigen-chan!" his partner grinned, raising the glass in mock toast.

 

Zenigata was feeling distinctly wrong-footed.

 

"I'm still arresting you, put the champagne down!"

 

Lupin paused, then turned to look at him.

 

"If I let you cuff me, will you stay and celebrate New Years with us?"

 

"I don't need you to _let_ me do anything!" Zenigata fumed.

 

"But will you? If I let you cuff me and promise to stay put?"

 

It was a fight between getting results and his self respect, and when had his self respect ever won that one?

 

"...yes."

 

"Excellent!" the thief crowed, and within the minute, his right hand was cuffed to Zenigata's left, and the inspector found himself with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, being plied with alcohol and fancy finger food that he could not have named at gunpoint.

 

"It's official," Lupin grinned, taking a bite out of a tiny triangle of toast spread with caviar. "Best way to spend New Year's Eve." He checked his watch, yanking Zenigata's hand up with his. "Fifteen minutes."

 

"So what do we do until then?" Jigen asked, eying the inspector's faint blush and smirking. "Spin the bottle?"

 

"I have heard that discussing resolutions for the coming year is common practice," Goemon offered.

 

"Nah, that's kinda boring," Lupin yawned. "I'm pretty sure I already know what everyone's would be. How 'bout any regrets from this past year, instead? That oughta be more interesting. Jigen, how about you?" he asked lightly, and after a long, pensive moment, the gunman smiled faintly.

 

"Nah. Could probably be making more if I went back to being a hitman, but this is more fun. 'Sides," he added, with a smile broad enough to show a few teeth, "you jerks aren't bad company. That's worth sticking around for." It also didn't hurt that, while they definitely weren't the good guys, not by a long stretch, thievery didn't leave the same putrid taste in his mouth as being a murderer for hire did. Less money, sure, but it put fewer rough miles on his soul, and that was worth taking a pay cut. The fact that this group of reprobates were the best friends he'd ever had - that didn't hurt either.

 

"Awwww," Lupin cooed. "You are such a sentimentalist, Jigen-chan! How 'bout you, Fuji-cakes?"

 

"Yeah - I regret that Jigen won't put out even for the sake of a heist."

 

"I take it back," Jigen growled, warm fuzzy feeling vanishing. "I deeply regret knowing you!"

 

"Be nice, Fujiko," Lupin told her reproachfully, slapping a coughing Zenigata on the back. Judging from the champagne dripping from his nose, he'd accidentally inhaled half the glass at Fujiko's words. "You'll give Pops a heart attack."

 

"Goemon?" Fujiko asked lightly, satisfied with her work as the resident Eris.

 

"None," the samurai smiled softly, settling in a little closer between her and Jigen. "This is not the path I thought I would be walking, but it is still a good one." Even if he would have to train harder to be worthy of inclusion in this company.

 

"Pops?" Lupin chirped.

 

"Yeah - not arresting you sooner." _Not getting here sooner tonight._

 

"How about you, Lupin?" Goemon inquired, cocking his head. "Do you regret anything of this past year?"

 

"Not wearing more comfortable underwear," the thief laughed. "Although..."

 

"What are y... _hey_!"

 

Lupin had just stuck his hand - the one cuffed to Zenigata's - all the way up his own skirt, and was rummaging around indiscriminately.

 

"Wha-Lup...STOP!"

 

"Oh calm down, I'm almost done, Pops," he smirked, wriggling suggestively. "Just a little more, and...ah! Much better," he grinned, waving a violently purple lace thong. Zenigata was giving every sign of being on the brink of several simultaneous heart attacks.

 

"And you accuse me of scaring Pops?" Fujiko said dryly, pouring herself some more champagne. "I think that probably just took ten years off his life."

 

"He'll get over it," Lupin said happily, tossing the underwear over his shoulder and taking another swig of golden fizz. "It's almost midnight!"

 

"Give me some warning next time!" Zenigata spluttered, still red in the face. "Or better yet, don't do... _that_ at all!"

 

"What, tell you, 'Hey, Pops, I'm about to go commando'?" Lupin asked impatiently, making sure everyone's glasses were full. "You'd freak out either way, so why waste my breath? Anyways, pipe down, it's almost time for the countdown!"

 

"Speaking of de-briefing, you're dry-cleaning that dress for me," Fujiko smiled. "Good condition, or I'm taking your share, remember." Over her shoulder, he could see Jigen mouth, _Told you_ , and he rolled his eyes.

 

"Whatever. It's time!"

 

All five of them settled in a little closer, breath pluming out in front of them and frosty glasses in hand as the announcement went up, the searchlights on the roof of City Hall cutting swathes of radiance into the sky. It really was kind of a pretty effect, Goemon decided, when they weren't trained on you and accompanied by gunfire.

 

"Ten, nine, eight..."

 

"Here's to a good year," Goemon smiled softly.

 

"And many more to come!"

 

"Seven, six..."

 

"Here's to seeing all of you in prison before the new year's much older."

 

"Screw you too, Pops. Want any more of these truffles?"

 

"Five, four, three..."

 

"Here's to better luck next time."

 

"Here's to the golden Garuda statue I overheard Lord Quawkley bragging about," Fujiko muttered, and Goemon and Jigen grinned in anticipation.

 

"Two..."

 

"One..."

 

"Happy new year!"

 

Four crystal flutes and a green glass bottle clinked happily as plumes of red and blue fire roared into the night, and Lupin's wig went flying over his shoulder to join the underwear.

 

Zenigata was genuinely enjoying himself, watching the fireworks display and not worrying too hard about how exactly he was going to make the arrest stick this time. With the reassuring weight of Lupin's hand cuffed to his, he let himself take pleasure in this rare moment of companionship with the gang he spent so much time dogging. As the last of the smoke and cordite smell drifted away though, and Goemon began to yawn and stretch, he couldn't resist asking.

 

"So what happened tonight? It's not like you lot to call it quits, I've seen you improvise your way through a botched job before."

 

"It was my fault that it didn't go off," Jigen groaned. "If I hadn't let her corner me..."

 

"It wasn't just you, I got waylaid and lost track of my mark too," Lupin sighed. "Next job we do, I'm adding panic buttons to our communicators so we can at least let each know when something's gone wrong."

 

"And call for help if you get cornered," Fujiko put in wryly. "By guards _or_ civilians."

 

"Or get sick," Goemon added, rueful.

 

"And let the rest of the gang know some part of the job wasn't done, do not pass go. Next time, I'm just going to babble at them in Japanese and pretend I don't speak any language from the western hemisphere," Jigen grumbled, finishing his bottle of champagne.

 

"That works about 75% of the time," Fujiko smirked. "For me, at least. The other quarter of the time, they still won't take a hint, and you have to drug or taze them or break a few fingers anyway."

 

"Fucking joy," the gunman groaned. He went to take a swallow of champagne, realized the bottle was empty, and tossed it aside with a sigh.

 

"That _was_ kind of a shitty spot for you to get stuck in though, Jigen," Fujiko allowed, passing him another bottle. "You could've handled it better, but...I could've too, and she shouldn't have been harassing you like that in the first place. How about I only take my share this time, and I take us all out to eat?"

 

"Careful, Fujiko, that almost sounded like an apology," the gunman said wryly, checking the rim of the bottle for powder or residue, and taking a swig when he decided it was clean. "Next thing you know, you'll be volunteering at soup kitchens and fostering orphans. Though now you mention it, I won't turn down food."

 

"You're paying?" Goemon asked with some surprise. Given just how much the gang was capable of putting away, buying them dinner - or breakfast, whichever it turned out to be - was liable to be an expensive prospect, especially at the kind of restaurant Fujiko would choose to eat at.

 

"Who says I'm paying?" Fujiko smirked, holding up a sleek black card. "She was that serious about getting into your pants, Jigen, it seems only fair she buy you dinner first." The pile of exquisitely crafted diamond chokers, bracelets, and hair ornaments she'd slipped off the little jerk and her friends before alerting the guards also more than made up for taking only 25% of tonight's meager haul, but the rest of the gang didn't need to know about that.

 

"Wait...that's a stolen credit card?" Zenigata sighed, setting his champagne glass aside. _Should've known the peace wouldn't last..._

 

"Unless my name is suddenly...Lilah," Fujiko told him, checking the card and rummaging in her purse. "Trust me, she deserves it, Pops. Dinner is the least she owes us."

 

"Even so, I can't let you do that," he said firmly, pulling out several more pairs of handcuffs. "This has been fun, but if you're going to start committing more crimes, I'll have to arrest you."

 

"Awww, and we were having such a nice time," Lupin pouted, cupping Zenigata's chin so that they were suddenly nose to nose. "If we're really going to be spending our New Year's Day in the cells, how about a new year's kiss for the road?"

 

Zenigata's mouth opened in surprise. Lupin was positively _smoldering_ hopeful hurt at him, and with that distraught face less than an inch away from his, his hands, and the cuffs he was supposed to be doing _something_ with, suddenly seemed about a thousand miles away and supremely unimportant. Gods, why couldn't he stop gaping? ...why did it matter, with Lupin looking at him like that...?

 

"I..."

 

...unfortunately, that meant that he inhaled a fair bit of the knockout perfume that Fujiko had slipped to Lupin mid-smolder.

 

"How long will that stuff last on him?" Lupin inquired, slipping the cuffs off and flexing his hand.

 

"Looks like he put about three pounds on over the holidays, and he has a pretty high tolerance for it anyway. With his current body mass..." Fujiko mused, running some mental calculations, "...between seven and eight minutes."

 

"That'll be okay then," Jigen yawned, standing up and stretching. "It's only a little below freezing, long as we leave him the blankets, he should be fine."

 

"Poor guy," Lupin said sympathetically, tucking the rest of the pile of comforters around the gently snoring inspector. "He has a rough job, chasing after all of us. He oughta relax a little."

 

"That's about as likely as you going straight an' narrow," Jigen scoffed, checking his watch. "You know damn well he's too stuck on you ever to give up. And you don't want 'im to, you like the attention. Twelve twenty-eight," he added.

 

"Yeah," the thief admitted with a cockeyed grin, "I really do. It just wouldn't be as much fun without Pops, you can't have a great adventure story without a worthy adversary."

 

"And you call Jigen sentimental," Fujiko laughed when she saw the consolation prize Lupin was leaving the inspector. "C'mon, or we're going to miss our window of opportunity. _Again_."

 

"Thirty seconds," Goemon called over his shoulder, cutting through the gate that barred the fire escape ladder.

 

And then smoke began billowing out of the first floor windows, confused shouting split the night, and the gang vanished cheerfully into the crowds of people now streaming out of the not-actually-on-fire hotel.

 

******************************

 

Four minutes after they left the roof, Zenigata stirred and groaned.

 

"Wha...Lup...DAMMIT!" he roared, bolting upright as fast as the five or six down quilts over him allowed. Sure enough, the gang of thieves had vanished, leaving only a pile of empty champagne bottles in their wake. And one full one, he noticed, as something by his right elbow clinked against the concrete.

 

 _Happy New Years, Pops!_ the note wrapped around the neck of the bottle read. _And happy late birthday! Sorry we couldn't celebrate the day of, but I'm glad you joined us tonight! Did my gift arrive in time? XOXO_

Below it was scrawled the familiar little grinning cartoon.

 

...and yes, it had. Zenigata was glad he'd taken that package home instead of opening it at the office. It hadn't been anything embarrassing, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from smiling stupidly when he'd opened it, and his coworkers would've had Questions.

 

It still surprised him, that Lupin had noticed his watch had stopped working. For better or worse, and usually it did make Zenigata's life that much harder, not much escaped the thief's attention.

 

Grumbling to himself about frustrating, obnoxious thieves who never played by the rules, the inspector collected the scattering of champagne flutes and empties into a neat pile, then grabbed the bottle they'd left him. At least he wasn't officially on duty tonight, so he wouldn't have to account for where he'd been and admit he'd returned empty-handed again. Small consolation. As he was turning to leave, a flash of purple against the gray caught his eye.

 

Ah. Right. Lupin's...underthings, lying next to the discarded wig. He felt his cheeks smart in the cold as he flushed.

 

He thought about it long and hard before deciding to take both as evidence. Whether they would actually get catalogued and make it into an evidence box...well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

 

******************************

 

One good thing about London, and Piccadilly especially, Jigen decided, they weren't attracting near as many stares as he'd expect for as strange a sight as they made. Goemon had put his hakama back on but left the tuxedo jacket. Without the wig, Lupin's extravagant sideburns were sending a message that definitely conflicted with the massive fake bust he'd given himself. Fujiko's makeup was only half removed, her dress had several distinctly burned spots on it, and with his fedora clashing terribly with the rumpled tuxedo and the latex patches inexpertly ripped off, they had to look like escapees from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

 

"So where're we going, Fujiko-chan?" Lupin chirped, slinging an arm around her waist and Jigen's. "I'm starved!"

 

"There's a really nice place right around the corner from here," she smiled, moving his hand firmly back up to her waist. "I know the maître d', she'll bump us to head of the list."

 

"So we just follow the yellow brick road?" he grinned. She squinted at him.

 

"Just how tired are you? You don't usually start making terrible pop culture references until you've been awake for at least forty hours straight."

 

"..."

 

"Lupin..."

 

"I'll sleep when we're done."

 

"That's not an answer, Lupin."

 

Dorothy had one thing right, Jigen thought, fighting a grin as they bickered and Goemon watched them like a mildly entertaining TV show. No place quite like home. And most people were in fact stuck with home as a _place_ , somewhere you either were or you weren't. All things considered, he was pretty lucky. His home went with him pretty much everywhere.

 

"Jigen, help me here!"

 

"Sorry, Lup. I told you you shoulda gotten more sleep last night."

 

"...traitor."

 

And the sun rose on the new year. 

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head lock, stock, and ready to go a day and a half ago, and I think that's the fastest I've ever written eight thousand words. Whew. Alternate titles included New Year, Old Friends, Same Shit, but it was voted down. X)
> 
> So I was researching the world's largest pearls for this fic, and apparently pearls can be up to 75 pounds and 2 feet across. O.o I had no idea that was possible. I think if I included that in this story, it would come across as too over-the-top even for Lupin. Plus they'd have trouble carrying it. >_> Pearls of that size tend to be Baroque pearls and be twisted into all kinds of weird shapes though, so we'll go with the Tear of Jofuku being unusual for being that size and also being a nice pretty sphere.
> 
> Ladrão is a somewhat archaic Brazilian Portuguese word for a highwayman or brigand.
> 
> Bye Bye Lady Liberty lists Zenigata's birthday as being December 25th. That was a pretty terrible movie, but the opening scene where Zenigata is waiting in the elevator for Lupin to walk in disguised as him, and then immediately begins correcting his Zenigata impersonation, is rad as hell.
> 
> Out of curiosity, is anyone here a His Dark Materials fan? If so, I'd love to talk daemon headcanons for the gang! (Fujiko's daemon is a mountain shrike. Zenigata's is an akita.)
> 
> Happy new year, y'all!


End file.
